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I fucking hated this town.
“Fancy seeing you out here, sweetheart.”
I swung around to face Jay, taking an automatic step back from him. He crossed his arms over his chest, his menacing, dark eyes glaring down at me. I swallowed nervously, every part of my body itching to escape. This was Jay’s territory. No one would step in if he decided to put his hands on me. Out here, I didn’t have a voice.
Out here, I was on my own.
“Wasn’t very nice of you to treat your mom like that a couple of days ago.” His eyes darkened with a palpable rage, making me swallow hard in fear. “And then running off with fucking Reeds?” he snarled, gripping my hood and yanking me against him. I whimpered. My heart was pounding so hard and fast in my chest that it physically hurt. “You’re mine, sweetheart. Don’t ever fucking forget that.”
“I’m not yours anymore, Jay,” I bit back at him, forcing myself to be strong, to show no fear. Jay fed off of that shit. “I haven’t been yours since you fucked my whore of a mother,” I spat up into his face.
His fist swung out, catching me across the face and sending me sprawling to the dirt. I blinked back dark spots from my vision, my ear ringing loudly. I was disoriented. I was blinking, trying to clear some of my vision, but it wasn’t working.
Jay kneeled beside me and yanked me onto my back so I was looking up at him. His hand came around my throat before I could stop him, my brain still not functioning properly after being hit so fucking hard.
I choked, clawing at his wrist and fingers, panic working alongside his tight hand to cut off my airflow. But I couldn’t let him do this. I would not die by strangulation. “If I ever catch you around Reeds again, sweetheart, I’ll make sure you never forget who the fuck you belong to,” he snarled down into my face as he tightened his hand.
With that, he released me, leaving me to cough as I sucked much-needed air into my lungs while he stormed away. Tears sprang to my eyes, but I forced myself to blink them away, pushing myself up from the ground. I wouldn’t cry. Crying was for weak people.
I was not weak.
Blood was trickling down my face, and my right thigh, knee, and lower leg were scraped badly from the fall.
Eleven months and three weeks left, and you’re out of this hell hole, I silently reminded myself as I pushed my body up from the ground.
Just eleven months and three weeks.
I stumbled into the garage, my eyes instantly blinking rapidly at the bright light. I had expected it to be vacant and dark, not for lights to still be on and for someone to be working this late at night.
And I certainly was not expecting Lincoln to be working on the engine of the Explorer I was supposed to have finished a couple of days ago. Guilt swirled in my gut. Jessie had been relying on me to finish that car, and instead, I had gotten sucked into my own problems, essentially fucking him over in the process.
Which meant Lincoln had to clean up my mess.
He looked up as I stepped inside. “Been a minute,” he gruffly spoke up, not seeming surprised to see me standing there at almost midnight.
I swallowed hard, wincing instantly at the pain in my throat. “Thought the garage was empty,” I grumbled, resisting the urge to reach up and rub my hand along the column of my neck. I could sense that my skin was already bruising and swelling.
Lincoln shook his head. “Explorer needed to be finished by yesterday, but someone kept calling out of work,” he said, calling me out on my shit passively. I grunted. “You avoiding me?”
“Yeah,” I said honestly, not one to lie. “But I didn’t come here to talk about all of that.” I sighed. “I need help.”
“With what?” He grabbed a grease rag and wiped his hands on it, eyeing me suspiciously. Couldn’t blame him, really. I mean, fuck, I’d been avoiding him since I let him fuck my brains out.
I pulled my hoodie over my head, looking up from the floor. My left eye was already practically swollen shut, and I still felt a little off balance. My ear was still ringing slightly. I knew there were a couple of cuts on my face from Jay’s rings, which had been the cause of the blood I had felt running down my face. I also knew that there was a handprint bruise already forming around my neck.
And my leg stung like a bitch.
“Jesus fucking Christ!” Lincoln roared as he stormed over to me. I sucked in a sharp breath, stumbling back from him, every part of my body screeching in alarm. He reached out and steadied me, his touch soothing despite the rage clear as day in his eyes. “Have you called Jessie?” he asked as he gently tilted my head back to look at my neck.
